


Cellmates

by Nova_Turient



Series: Scrambled (aka: Doctor and Master keep meeting in the wrong order) [3]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Aliens, Banter, Fluff, M/M, Post-Episode: s12e10 The Timeless Children, Prison, This is just them being stupid and cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:08:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28717059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nova_Turient/pseuds/Nova_Turient
Summary: The Master escaped Gallifrey without an army, with a broken down TARDIS and with the prospect of starting all over again.He thinks it will take him years to find the Doctor.That's not exactly the case.
Relationships: Eighth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan), The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who)
Series: Scrambled (aka: Doctor and Master keep meeting in the wrong order) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101014
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	Cellmates

The Master staggered outside the thick cloud of smoke coming out of his TARDIS, the exterior burned and battered, the cloister bell blaring so loud, he was sure his ears would ring for years. He coughed, shaking off his coat when he realized it too got caught in the fire that now blazed outside the threshold. The TARDIS wheezed in pain, another explosion boomed from inside and the sound of the bell distorted into a crackled ring.

“Should’ve flown faster!” he called, stumbling away and falling back into the blue grass to catch his breath.

He looked up to the cloudless green sky, sneering at how peaceful it was. Somewhere, hopefully far far away from there, Gallifrey was dead and deserted, with a thousand of his Cyber Masters scattered around the TARDIS docking bay. Destroyed. They were too slow, and at the end, he didn’t have the strength to stay and face death. He had abandoned his army, his years of work and sacrifices. All because of the Doctor.

Of course because of the Doctor.

He covered his whole face with his hands and roared a frustrated scream into them. At the same time, one final explosion put an end to the TARDIS suffering. He tilted his head enough to see it crumple on itself, smaller and smaller until, with one last blast of light, it imploded into nothing. The Master let himself fall back with a thud, sprawled like a starfish on the grass. Closing his eyes, he took in a long breath. He had no time to waste, and dwelling on the past wasn’t his style any more. He was still alive and had all the time in the universe to plan his revenge. Time to start from scratch.

He started to prop himself back up, when a barrel pushed against his temple. He didn’t need to see it was a weapon, he knew the feeling of being held at gunpoint far too well. Carefully opening one eye he saw five creatures towering above him, plasma shotguns pointed at his face. They were ant-like, and their mandibles scraped with loud warning crackles when he stirred uncomfortably under their aim.

The Master forced a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his worried eyes.

“Hello.”

  
  


\-------

  
  


Shackled and dragged into an underground prison. How incredibly cliché.

They also pointlessly shoved him along like he was putting up any resistance. He didn’t need to, he was going to be free before they even had the time to decide what to do of him. When he turned towards his captors he tried to take a mental note of the patterns on their exoskeletons, just to make sure his revenge was inflicted upon them...at first.

The anger didn’t set in until he felt the lock of the door clank into position. He glared at the guard through the small window bars. The alien just cracked his mandibles into something that sounded like a laugh and left.

He stared at the stone wall opposite his cell. From lord of Gallifrey, to captive on a planet so primitive they didn’t even have the decency to level their floors. The Master nostril flared and he kicked the door. Somehow, the sound of metal reverberating and the sharp pain in his feet spurred forward his rage, and with a growl he repeatedly kicked the door, until the sole of his feet felt numb. In his mind a hurricane of incoherent thoughts that all lead to one in particular.

The Doctor.

He started pacing the room like a raging bull. The Master hated that. He hated that, if she could see him right now, she would just laugh and told him to stop throwing tantrums. He wasn’t even sure this specific version of the Doctor would’ve helped him at all. She always acted so holy, so superior, so infuriatingly patronizing. The Master hated the stupid grin she flashed him on the Eiffel tower, as much as the cold stare she reserved him while pointing a Death Particle straight into his face. He wished he could kiss both away-

He quite literally threw himself on the floor, wiggling his arms and legs until he managed to get his hands on his front. He inspected the cuffs, eager to get out of them and release his frustration against the stupid bugs that had foolishly imprisoned him.

Only when he began to properly concentrate on the handcuffs, and his rage slowly subsided, he started to feel an unnerving presence sitting the opposite side of his cell. The Master looked up, peering up through the dark hair that has just fallen in front of his face after his tumble on the dusty stone.

The Doctor, hands cuffed behind his back, tilted his head to him. Not his Doctor. This one was the one with the curly locks, and the eyes so blue just thinking about them made the Master fidgety. His curls were not that long any more, but the way he was able to relenting stare into the depths of his soul remained unchanged. The Master frowned, suddenly very aware of the scene he just made, between kicking the door and rolling on the floor like a caged beast. He felt his hearts slowly sink with embarrassment, before the Doctor spoke, giving him back some hope.

“Sorry I didn’t interrupt you, it looked personal.” he didn’t know who he was and the Master sighed in relief “Hi. I’m the Doctor.”

“I know.” the Master bit his tongue, closing his eyes while internally cursing himself.

“Oh. Good. Don’t need to bring you up to speed, then.” he exclaimed, unfazed by how weird his answer was “What’s your name?”

The Master scrolled through an infinity of possible aliases and names, but at the end, just one letter came out.

“O.”

“O?”

“ _O_.”

The Doctor blinked away his stupor and leaned forward, very interested “How many Os? Does it have an H?”

“Where are we?” The Master changed subject, irritation crawling back into the back of his mind.

“Some sort of prison.”

“What _planet_?” he enunciated like he was talking to a child.

He would’ve never dared anything so bold with any other Doctor, but this one was very trusting. He also did not have the patience to keep a secret identity this time around, so he preferred to keep it short and true. And as mean as he could.

“I haven’t got the slightest idea.” the Doctor answered, looking around like he just arrived.

The Master groaned “Great.”

He went back to fidget with his cuffs. Pretty primitive, he could pry the lock open with a sharp object and-

“Need help with those?”

The Master jumped when he heard the Doctor voice suddenly close. He looked up to see he moved to kneel in front of him, hands reaching out for his. Free hands reaching out. The Master gestured at his uncuffed wrists.

“You-?”

“Thin wrists.” he grinned, shaking his hands as to prove something that was most definitely not the truth “Now-”

The Master cut him off, scrambling with his feet and getting one shoe off. He took it in his bound hands, avoiding the unnerving presence of the Doctor piercing gaze burning through his skull. He twisted the heel, humming when it opened to reveal a secret compartment. A pocket knife fell on his lap, and he hurried to grab it and push it into the Doctor’s hands.

“Ingenious.” The Doctor commented, inspecting the knife.

The Master just grunted in return, pushing the handcuffs in his line of view, still not looking up at him.

It took the Doctor less than seven seconds to open the cuffs. Two whole seconds more than what it would’ve took him, the Master thought, snatching the knife back as soon as his hands were free, and jolting on his feet like a spring. The Doctor followed, probably mistaking his jumpiness for fear. He was looking at him expectantly, bright eyes smiling, searching deeper. He looked at him just like he looked at every single stupid human he collected among the road.

The Master felt his bile boiling at the thought he’d never look at him that way, not then, and most certainly, not now.

He turned for the door, kneeling to break open the lock with his knife.

“It’s open.” the Doctor said, rushing beside him to peer outside the tiny barred opening.

“W-what?” the Master rose to his feet.

“I tampered with it as soon as I got in.” he grinned at him “After I got out of the cuffs, of course.” he specified, dully.

The Doctor reached out to twist a bolt on the far right and another on the upper left, until the door fell open with a shrill creak. The Master felt his eye twitch in irritation. The burden of embarrassing himself could’ve been easily avoided, if only the Doctor wasn’t such an insufferable fool. If he had to, he would bet he stayed in the cell on purpose, waiting until a poor soul had turned up, ready to be saved. No pride in saving only himself, was there?

He snapped “Then why didn’t you-” _escape!_ He thought, vividly. Maybe too vividly, because the Doctor shrugged at his silent suggestion.

The Master groaned, stepping outside before the Doctor could gesture him out like a god damn doorman. He headed to the way he came, but a hand seized his upper arm, dragging him in the opposite direction.

“Left.” the Doctor insisted.

“The exit is on the right.” he growled, snatching back his arm.

“That’s why we are going left.” this time it was his turn to talk him down like he was a child. The Master clenched his teeth, and the Doctor voice lowered at his reaction “Come on, O. Don’t you wanna know why they imprisoned us?”

“I just wanna get out!” he snapped.

The Doctor sighed “Suit yourself.” he shrugged “Goodbye.”

Before turning his back to him, the Doctor gave the Master one last sad look, the ghost of a smile on his lips. The Master felt his hearts both missing a beat and repressed the urge to clench his chest. There was so much loneliness in his voice, despite himself, the Master could relate. _Curse him_ , he thought, stomping behind him.

“Wait!” he called.

The Doctor turned with a bright grin, waiting for him, excited. No trace of sadness left. The Master really couldn’t decide if kissing or punching the living daylight out of him.

“No guards.” the Master commented as soon as they turned the first corner and found themselves into a long deserted gallery.

The Doctor elbowed him and nodded towards the floor “No need for it.”

The Master deflated when he noticed a series of red lasers that formed a pattern along the gallery floor.

“Traps.” he commented. Modern traps of a technology way too advanced for those bug creatures and their primitive prison cells. He turned to look at the intrigued expression on the Doctor’s face, the one he had when presented with a mystery, and the prospect of saving a civilization oppressed by some big bad alien entity.

The Master followed the Doctor, shoulder slumped, as they carefully made their way through the labyrinth of laser sensors “ _Great_...”

  
  


As expected, the Doctor spent half of the time commenting the craftsmanship of the traps, the other half testing out what the traps consisted of _(Mostly bottomless pits. How dull)_ , and what was left rambling about his experience with traps. The Master noted with a certain sense of pride, how many of those traps were his own, but other than that, the Doctor slowness was getting on his nerves.

“Slow down.” the Doctor called when he jumped several meters ahead, almost falling face first into a laser sensor “O, you really should-”

The Master spun his head “Oh, shut it! We have no time to waste!”

The Doctor merely blinked. If the Master didn’t know better, he would’ve said there was amusement on his face.

“Are you always this angry?”

“Anger management is the _least_ of my problems right _now_.”

_The first one is you_ , he’d like to add, but before he could stop himself from doing something as foolish as that, a loud whistle filled the corridor. He looked down, at the feet he inadvertently placed exactly in the aim of a laser. The floor ripped open under him. He staggered back, slipping on uneven stone. His hands reached out for something to hold on but only found air. His hearts sunk. That was not his best day.

The Master braced himself for the fall, but was surprised when a pair of arms circled his torso and pulled him back to safety instead. He tried not to think what kind of crazy acrobatics the Doctor must’ve made to reach him this fast, it definitely ruined the mood. He stared down the bottomless pit right before his feet, catching his breath, as he let himself slump backwards into the Doctor’s chest with a sigh of relief.

The Doctor coughed and it ruffled his hair. His eyes grew two sizes and he spun on the spot, as the Doctor shifted his hands from his shoulders to his sides to keep him still.

The Master straightened himself, smoothing his hands down his waistcoat. He looked up to see the Doctor, now staring back at him with concern all over his pretty face. The Master suddenly felt very aware of the weight of his hand on his waist, securing him upright and making his legs slightly wobbly at the same time.

The Doctor raised one eyebrow “Will you behave now?” he murmured.

Of all the weird things people accused him to do, the Master had to ask himself why nobody pointed out how ecstatic he got when the Doctor scolded him like that, almost...threateningly. He couldn’t help it, his mouth stretched into a wolfish grin.

“ _Never_.” he taunted. The Doctor simply nodded.

“That’s the spirit.” he chirped, patting him on the lower back. The Master held his breath “Come on.”

  
  


\-------

  
  


It turned out something was in fact wrong with the planet, and it also turned out it was partially the Master’s fault.

Okay, maybe a bit more than partially.

Apparently, a group of cyber-mites had attached themselves to his TARDIS and had travelled in his same direction through the vortex, infecting the insectoids months before he even arrived on their planet.

There was also something to do with a real estate manager from Telemite, his dead wife, and systemic child labour. But by that point, the Master had already tuned out, thinking of what to do next.

The Doctor would’ve invited him inside his TARDIS, which he did, and would’ve offered to bring him home, which he also did.

The Master scanned all possible alien races with enough technological knowledge to grant him a mean of transport of some sort, but not enough that he wouldn’t be able to collapse their entire political system in a night. Silurians colonies on Viridian sounded like a good deal. Now there was just the pressing matter of not being chosen as a companion. He needed to look as unsavable as he could, a lost cause, an absolute worthless failure.

“Is this where you live?” the Doctor asked when they landed.

The Master looked over to the screens, to the thunderous purple winds on a planet that looked almost deserted and very much unwelcoming. What a dreadful sense of taste Silurians had.

He pursed his lips “It will do.”

The Doctor tapped his fingers on the console, stepping towards him with an understanding smile.

“Are you sure I can’t fly you home?” the Doctor asked, searching for his gaze “I just need a place, a time and-”

“I don’t have a-” The Master bit his tongue, homelessness would just make him look more worth saving “It’s fine.” he gritted out instead, and then “Open the door.”

The Master motioned to the console, and the Doctor sighed, flicking the switch that opened the doors. The raging winds of the storm thundered as the Master turned towards the exit, bracing himself like a dead man walking. He made the first step towards it.

The doors slammed shut.

The Master stammered, spun on the spot to glare at the Doctor, who was peacefully staring, the finger still on the switch.

“Tea.” he exclaimed.

“What?”

“I’m offering you tea.” the Doctor explained, raising his eyebrows “It would be terribly impolite of you to refuse.”

The Master snorted, shook his head and glanced back at the doors. Was that his version of flirting?

“Doctor, let me go.”

“Just one cup.”

The Master almost laughed in his face. How pathetic that he would come to beg what, to his knowledge, was a perfect stranger. And for what? A bit of company? Only because this one stranger was straight up refusing to bask in his grandeur, because he did nothing but treating him poorly? The Master felt his fists clench. Why was he so willing to throw away every ounce of pride for one stupid random man but not for him? He turned his back to him, because he was sure there was no amount of concealing that would’ve hid the disappointment from his face.

“Doctor.” he warned, baring his teeth “Good.Bye.”

He heard him shuffle behind him, clicking the switch again. The doors opened and he marched towards them, ready to never see this version of the Doctor again.

“You still take it no milk and no sugar?” he halted on the threshold “I’m afraid I’m out of peppermint one, though.”

The Master turned slowly, realization flooding his face. The Doctor was lazily typing in coordinates, preparing his TARDIS for departure. When the Master didn’t answer, he braced over the console with both hands, staring back at him, a victorious smile spreading on that stupidly attractive face.

_He fooled him_ , the Master thought, fighting the urge to kiss him for his acting skills and malice. He wished he didn’t find the Doctor having any form of malice as attractive as he did.

When the Master turned completely, the Doctor flicked the switch for the fourth time, and the TARDIS door closed behind him.

“You’re always out of peppermint tea, you hate the stuff.” the Master commented.

The Doctor nodded “I rather drink poison.”

“And yet, for all the times I tried, you never did.” he folded his arms with a lazy smile, sauntering towards the console “How did you figure it out?”

The Doctor waited for him to get closer, eyeing him with an amused expression.

“There’s not much to figure. You waved the knife I gifted you right into my face, it was pretty obvious from there.”

The Master clever grin fell as it appeared. He uncrossed his arms, suddenly awkward on his feet. He had that stupid knife for so long...he forgot the Doctor actually gifted it to him very very long ago, before either of them decided to have titles rather than names. He gulped.

“Oh…” he breathed.

“That’s your name.” the Doctor quipped, pointing at him.

The Master rolled his eyes, leaning against the console with a heavy sigh of defeat. He pondered on his next words carefully, ignoring the fact that the Doctor was nearing him ever so slowly. He was temped to see exactly how far he was willing to bring things in his console room, but decided to play the long game instead. That was more his style.

“Do you still have Yorkshire?”

The Doctor eyebrows rose and he stopped dead in his track “ _Of course_ I have Yorkshire.” he said, like the Master was doubting his intelligence.

“Fine.” he breathed, raising a finger before both their faces “One cup.”

The Doctor smirked, tilting his head towards the inner corridors. The Master went ahead and he followed.

And if one cup then became three, and three cups became a whole bottle of Venusian wine, the Master didn’t really mind any more.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think I said it before, but thank you for reading! If you liked this story consider leaving a kudo or a comment, I'd really appreciate that!


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